


all these sorrows I have seen

by Amber_Flicker



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Insomnia, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rip-centric, hints at Rip/Gideon, that's a tag apparently
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-18 14:07:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10618518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amber_Flicker/pseuds/Amber_Flicker
Summary: Rip can't sleep.He's not the only one.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Dream by Imagine Dragons (I wanted a title that directly referenced sleep/dreaming, but couldn't find one I liked)
> 
> Set sometime between Land of the Lost and Fellowship of the Spear, either with the assumption that there was a longer time between the two or that the latter didn't happen at all.

It was a constant struggle not to drown in his own guilt and the after-effects of the trauma he'd suffered. Rip couldn't stop the thoughts of the things he'd done from haunting him, despite repeatedly being told it wasn't _him._ And being trapped inside his mind like that, isolated and terrified, while part of him did terrible things for so long... It only made sense, then, that it influenced his sleeping as well.

He couldn't sleep, and when he did, he was _there_ again. He hadn't often had good nights before all of this, dreams of those he'd loved and lost, but it had been getting better, with time. Having a group of people around to form bonds with did that. But since his return, the nightmares wouldn't stop, and now they featured new memories. The people he'd killed, those he'd tried to- _his team_. Being in that dark cell. Things that hadn't ever happened, but could have. His mind wasn't in short supply of ideas. 

Rip woke screaming each night for the first week. If the rooms hadn't been soundproof... Now, it was quieter, settled into bolting upright, trying to _breathe,_ wet eyed and weary. There was never much chance of sleeping again, at least not right away. So he didn't try.

 

He wandered the halls of his ship. He let himself see that it was real, he was safe. 

 

Rip wasn't the only one. Insomnia ran rampant on the ship. They all had their demons.

 

Sometimes, he ran into Mick, who was unable to sleep for whatever reason. Rip knew it was usually Snart or the things he'd gone through at the hand of the Time Masters. But they didn't talk about it; they didn't talk at all. There was a silent understanding that they could keep each other company until one of them left, but neither wished to speak of their nightmares. It was therapuetic, in a way. Someone else _getting_ it. The situations hadn't been the _same,_ not quite, but they'd both had their minds messed with. 

 

Sara was different. She'd rope him into some sort of distraction. Maybe they'd play cards- it wasn't something they _did_ in his century, not this way, and she'd had to show him how it worked. Or he would watch her work out her issues by practicing. Not that she needed to, really, but it was what helped her. He was almost afraid to be around her, after... after what he'd done to her, but he grew more comfortable as time passed. He accepted that it had happened and that she had forgiven him. Rip didn't stop regretting it, entirely, but it was progress.

 

Jax, on occasion, could be found awake, trying to learn more about how the Waverider worked- even after all this time, there was much about the ship that he'd yet to figure out, the tech so different from that of the early 21st century. Someone usually urged him to go sleep. Sometimes it was Rip. Jax always brought up how he should be sleeping, too. He didn't leave until he was sure that Rip was taking care of himself. Rip couldn't bring himself to be irritated about it.

 

Stein didn't stay up late like the others tended to, not an insomniac and smart enough to know it wasn't a good idea to skip sleep if he could help it. That didn't mean he _never_ did. The single time Rip found him awake, he was in the kitchen with a cup of tea and a book he was nearly done with. Rip made himself a cup and stayed until he was done. They ended up talking into the early hours of what constituted morning on the ship.

 

And other nights, when he was too exhausted and broken to leave him room, his bed, he'd roll over, curl into himself and bring the blankets in tight around him. He went through the breathing exercises he'd learned over the years in an effort to get himself under control, to calm down. The lights rose to a dim glow without him saying a word. Warm light, not like-

"Gideon."

"I'm here, captain." The familiarity was soothing.

"Would you..."

"Of course." She began to speak, some story pulled from her archives. It didn't matter what it was about- Rip wouldn't remember it. He wasn't listening to the words so much as her voice. He'd grown so used to it over the years, and nothing, no one on the ship could bring him the feeling of security that Gideon could. All the turmoil and grief, and this one thing in his life remained a constant. His stability. 

Something signifigantly harder to take from him than _people._ (Even if it came with its own downsides.)

 

He was lulled back into a dreamless sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> No Nate or Amaya appearances because I honestly don't know much about them, I only saw the last half of the season, and as for Ray, I don't imagine him as an insomniac ~~it definitely isn't because I forgot about him... nope...~~
> 
> I just? Needed some good Rip angst. Also, this makes 1001 works in the Rip Hunter tag. ♥
> 
> Find me at clichés-and-coffee on tumblr.


End file.
